


I don't care

by civillove



Series: seblaine week 2k19 [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-12 23:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20164714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: Seblaine week 2019 - RoommatesAka: 5 times Blaine says he doesn't care (and 1 time he says he does)--Blaine’s not saying it’s perfect—not by a long shot, but most of the time it’s easier than he thought it would be. He’s just had to develop a thicker skin and an ability to say ‘I don’t care’ because if he did? Sebastian would drive him fucking crazy.The fact that he just walked into their shared living room space and saw his roommate’s naked ass and a faceful of some random guy’s dick is exactly what he’s talking about.





	I don't care

Blaine doesn’t mind having a roommate, in all honesty it’s probably one of the best decisions he’s made while living in New York. Apartments are expensive and it’s rare to live in a nice place, alone, especially when you’re not making as much money as it is. He’s got school to worry about, his internship at a Manhattan theater and terrible hours at a seedy bar—so trying to maintain a decent living situation is something he doesn’t want to work hard at.

He met Sebastian three years ago through his ex, ironically, and ever since they’ve gotten to know one another they’ve had this push and pull relationship that somehow drives him crazy and entertains him all at the same time. They’ve been living together for a year and the process was messy, complicated and busy but it’s finally settled down—especially since they tend to run on different schedules. Sebastian works at a law firm, the hours of the day grueling and sometimes shifted depending on if he’s interning on a specific case that requires his undivided attention. Blaine juggles classes, the theater and late night shifts at a bar so needless to say when he’s at home, he’s usually sleeping.

The apartment sometimes feels like it’s held together with glue, tape that’s not sticky enough and promises to do the dishes but they make it work. There’s a chore wheel, dinner duties and they communicate through a tiny whiteboard on the fridge when they plan on having visitors.

Blaine’s not saying it’s perfect—not by a long shot, but most of the time it’s easier than he thought it would be. He’s just had to develop a thicker skin and an ability to say ‘I don’t care’ because if he _did? _Sebastian would drive him fucking crazy.

The fact that he just walked into their _shared living room space _and saw his roommate’s naked ass and a faceful of some random guy’s dick is exactly what he’s talking about.

“Fucking Christ, Sebastian,” Blaine covers his one hand with his eyes, nearly dropping an arm of groceries. “What’s the point of the whiteboard if you don’t write when someone’s going to be here.”

Sebastian laughs softly, the sound of moving bodies, random naked guy being ushered down the hall towards his room. “Sorry, curls, this was a little impromptu.”

“Can I look yet, or what.”

“Oh you can look,” Sebastian says, his voice warm like caramel—which tells Blaine that he shouldn’t remove his hand, at all. “You can even join if you want, we were just getting started.”

“Please don’t make me throw fruit at you.”

His roomie smirks and Blaine listens to his feet pad down the hallway, “Night!” Before his bedroom door shuts.

He sighs and drops his hand from his face, scrunching his nose towards his couch because, gross, those cushions are definitely going to need dry cleaned now.

“I don’t care.” He mumbles and looks to the ceiling, repeating it a few times under his breath as he carries groceries into the kitchen.

Because what else is he supposed to say?

\--

**I don’t care who you sleep with **

Monday mornings are always the worst on principle but waking up early after coming home late really makes him feel like he’s somehow waking up in an older man’s body. His joints creak, his muscles ache, and he smells like stale beer and weed from not showering when he immediately got home. The tips are great at the bar he works at, hence the only reason he stays, but the hours paired with school and his internship _really _take it out on him sometimes. He also regrets the fact that he just _had _to pick some things up at a late-night grocer because they didn’t have a chance to go shopping this week.

He hopes there’s eggs at least for breakfast because he didn’t get those.

He sighs under the hot stream of water, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against the linoleum for a few moments, the stream unknotting his tense shoulders. And then—

The pounding starts up again.

Blaine groans and lifts his head, cursing the idea that Sebastian’s bedroom is on the other side of the bathroom. Someone is hitting the wall, clearly in pleasure, the shower doing little to block out the moans. The shampoo bottle dances off a ledge and Blaine just nearly catches it before setting it by his feet, because what’s the point? It’s not going to stay where it belongs.

Of course he can’t have a few moments of peace in the morning.

He hurries his shower and takes a towel to wrap around his body, using another to dry his hair. Blaine slips back into his bedroom, just in case Sebastian and unnamed stranger #3 want to use the shower, and pulls his clothes on for the day. Weather is supposed to be decent, thankfully, compared to all the rain they’ve had the past week. He tugs on a pair of black chinos and a mustard color polo, fixing his hair in the mirror of his dresser.

He uses a tiny bit of gel to tame his frizzy curls but nowhere near the amount he used to use in high school. Blaine winces out of sympathy for his hair and plays with a longer curl near his forehead.

“Sorry.” He mumbles to his locks before gathering a used coffee cup on his nightstand and heads to the kitchen.

He listens for a few moments to track where Sebastian and unnamed stranger #3 are, chewing on his lower lip as he hears the bathroom door close. Excellent. Maybe he can have breakfast and be out of here before he has to see either of them.

Blaine takes out a frying pan and checks to see if they have eggs, smiling as he pulls two out of the carton. He grabs his creamer, cuts an avocado in half, takes out a shaker of Cajun seasoning from the cabinet and sneakily drinks a swig of orange juice out of the jug before putting it back in the fridge.

“Morning.”

He sighs and looks at the ceiling a moment before glancing over his shoulder as unnamed stranger #3 wanders into the kitchen with just boxers on. Spoke too soon about getting in and out of the apartment in peace.

“It’s nice you have pants on this time.”

Stranger smirks, tall, dark and handsome (aka Sebastian’s type) and runs a hand through his hair as he wanders over towards the coffee. “Yeah, sorry about that. Sebastian didn’t say he had a roommate.”

“Not a problem, Mark, that’s typical of him.”

Mark’s eyebrows scrunch together. “My name is Patrick.”

Blaine makes a soft noise, turning to tend to his eggs. “Oh. Right.”

He tries not to notice ‘Mark’ going through the cabinets looking for a mug for his coffee and he bites his tongue when he uses his creamer too. It’s one thing to have friends over, it’s one thing to have strangers sleep in Sebastian’s bed—but it’s really another to do the whole morning after routine where ‘Mark’ is using _half _of his creamer in his cofree.

He’s about to take the carton out of his hand when Sebastian wanders in, freshly showered, in just his towel.

“You making eggs for everyone?” He asks, smacking Blaine on the ass as he walks by.

Blaine does his best not to squawk and instead hits Sebastian’s arm with the spatula. “No, get your own.”

He turns the stove off and puts his eggs onto a plate, moving to the counter to sprinkle them with Cajun and cutting half of the avocado into slices. He glances up as Sebastian smiles at ‘Mark’ and presses a kiss to his shoulder before getting a cup of coffee of his own. Blaine can feel his jaw working because isn’t the kitchen at least safe from all this? He already ruined a public space the other night by having dicks out in the living room.

He takes a forkful of eggs into his mouth as Sebastian glances at the chore wheel, spinning it, and scrunching his nose at how it lands on ‘cleaning the living room’ and Blaine almost spits out his breakfast because _karma. _

‘Mark’s eyes are traveling over Sebastian’s form in his towel and something hot and heavy spirals up from his belly into his chest because how long is this dude going to stay in their kitchen in just his underwear? Doesn’t he have class or a job to get to?

Blaine wraps his hand around his mug and clears his throat. “So, M to P—really working your way through the alphabet, huh.” It’s not a question.

‘Mark’ at least has the decency to look embarrassed where Sebastian just turns to look at Blaine over his shoulder with a slow smile that’s far too amused for his liking. He licks his lips and leans against the counter, taking a sip of his coffee.

“You're just sore that I skipped you when I was on B.”

Blaine rolls his eyes and focuses in on his breakfast so he doesn’t do something stupid like kill his roommate, especially since he has to leave for class soon or he’ll be late. ‘Mark’ mills around the kitchen a little awkwardly, Sebastian offering him a muffin that he purposely says is ‘to go’ so he gets the hint to leave.

He finishes up his eggs and cleans the plate, hearing the front door open and close with ‘Mark’s departure and tries to rifle through Sebastian’s coffee cup collection for a to-go cup to take more coffee with him.

Though, by the time he finds one, Sebastian is pouring himself a second cup and because they wasted coffee on ‘Mark’ there’s not enough for him to fill a to-go cup. He sighs and glares at the coffee pot— typical. He’ll just have to buy some on the way to class.

“Why so sour this morning?”

“You mean other than the fact that we’re out of coffee?” He puts the useless to-go cup down near the sink.

Sebastian smiles and Blaine tries to keep his eyes on anything that’s _not _him in just a towel, in their kitchen. “Yeah.”

“Other than the dick I saw in the living room last night?”

The taller smirks before taking a sip of his coffee, shrugging his shoulder. “Got a bit out of hand, or mouth I should say, sorry.”

“No you’re not.” Blaine shakes his head but there’s a twinge of a smile pulling at the edges of his mouth.

“No,” Sebastian agrees, eyes flickering down over his frame. “I’m not.”

A silence passes between them but it’s not uncomfortable, Sebastian taking a step closer to him, almost encroaching into his space. He licks his lips and straightens his back, can feel the heat of his body nearly pressing into his own. Their height differences forces him to tilt his chin, hazel eyes tracing over Sebastian’s jawline. There’s water slipping from strands of his hair near the back of his neck, droplets kissing his collarbone and sliding lower.

Blaine hates the knee-jerk reaction in wanting to follow them with his mouth. Because yeah, of _course _he’s attracted to Sebastian, it’d be ridiculous for him not to be. The problem with his roommate is that he never takes relationships seriously, he’s even bad at being someone’s friend—he just _barely _makes a good roommate. It’s unfortunate that Sebastian’s problem, and it’s not surprising but, he just doesn’t care.

So Blaine can’t allow himself to fall into that cycle; he refuses to be a part of his roomie’s alphabet list. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this great apartment that he lives in…and he doesn’t think he could handle another terrible, messy breakup.

Sebastian’s eyes narrow a moment, catching an expression on Blaine’s face. “What’s goin’ on with that?”

He frowns, “What do you mean?”

“Your face—it looks like you’re suckin’ on a lemon.”

Blaine touches his own cheek before letting out a soft huff, “No I am not.”

The taller smiles, just a little and reaches for a curl near Blaine’s temple. He tucks it behind his ear, “It’s alright to be jealous, I consider the emotion to be really attractive, actually.”

His mouth opens to the point where it feels like his jaw might fall to the floor before pushing Sebastian’s hand away from his face. “I am—” God, the sputtering really isn’t helping his case. “Jealous? I’m not jealous. I don’t care who you sleep with.”

His voice sounds a lot more confident than it feels but he can tell right away that Sebastian doesn’t believe him. He does however, pull back, giving him some space as he picks up his coffee cup.

“Just…stop doing it in the living room.”

“What about the shower?” Sebastian asks, adding a little more creamer to his coffee before putting it away. “Or the kitchen, is that off limits too? All these rules Blaine Anderson,” He says as he walks towards his bedroom, “I’m having trouble keeping them straight!”

Blaine lets out a soft sigh and checks the time—shit, of course he’s going to be late.

“You need to buy me more creamer!” He yells over his shoulder as he grabs his satchel and heads out the front door (definitely on his way to pick up a coffee, regardless if he misses the first few minutes of class).

\--

**I don't care if you eat all the caramel corn (just buy more you dick)**

It’s not often that Blaine comes home drunk.

One: because if he went through every shift at the bar drinking shots that people bought him, he’d probably die of liver failure and two: he doesn’t want to spend money getting an Uber. He already pays for a MetroCard every month and with the groceries, bills, classes, books, etc.…there’s very little for extra spending.

But sometimes the week is long and he just wants to relax, let loose, and he drinks all the damn shots that customers buy him and then he hangs out after his shift is over to throw darts and drink. Sometimes he sings because the bar has karaoke and his boss gets a kick out of it, actually tells him his voice draws in a crowd, and while he loves his ego being stroked it usually just leads to _more _drinks and yeah—

So this is how he’s drunk on a Thursday night and since when did his apartment have so many steps?

Fuck.

Probably could have used the elevator if he figured out how the buttons worked. Blaine sighs and tries to open the wrong apartment, twice, before he wanders down the hall and sticks his key in the correct slot. He nearly falls in, steadies himself on the doorframe and slams the door closed.

Oops, whatever, Sebastian’s not home anyways.

Except when he toes off his shoes he’s there, in the living room, mountain loads of paperwork surrounding him like some sort of bomb has gone off. He frowns and straightens his back, stumbling over the shoes and nearly knocking over a small table they keep near the front door.

“Are you real?”

Sebastian snorts out a sound and sits up on the couch, putting down a file. “Last time I checked, though this case is starting to make me feel like I’m having an out of body experience.” He pinches the bridge of his nose a moment before taking a better look at his roommate.

It always makes him squirm when he looks like him like that, a shiver coursing down his spine and digging between his bones. Blaine licks his lips and decidedly looks away, wandering into the kitchen to find something to eat.

“Have fun tonight?” Sebastian calls after him, his voice echoing against the walls.

Blaine just snorts, responds in his head because he’s on a mission to find popcorn. He tries to remember when he last saw some, the skin scrunching between his eyebrows as he attempts to concentrate on his surroundings. God.

“What are you looking for?” Sebastian’s voice is closer and Blaine doesn’t have to look to know he’s leaning against the kitchen doorway, probably in a pair of comfortable black sweatpants and a grey t-shirt that always makes him want to bury his face in his shoulder.

“Really unfair.” That he says out loud.

Sebastian’s voice is tinged with amusement as he walks over to him, leaning against the kitchen counter. “What is?”

Blaine sighs and closes his eyes. “You are. Also, can you…tell the room to stop spinning?”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” He laughs softly and Blaine is really glad that his disorientation is amusing to him. He listens to him move about the kitchen, turning the sink on, jumping when a hand touches his shoulder.

“Easy, drink this.”

Blaine opens his eyes and God, what the fuck? Everything is swirling but he grabs the water and takes a few strong sips. Sebastian takes the glass from him so he doesn’t drop it, he gets a lot of points for that, and carefully backs him up so he’s sitting on a stool.

“That was so smart.”

Sebastian grins, “I like this version of you, I get so many compliments.”

He groans softly as the taller begins to move away and he dangerously knows in the back of his mind that there’s two versions of him being drunk: crying and being snuggly and the second one is clearly where he’s headed tonight. He wants to grab onto Sebastian and press his face into his chest, breathe him in, sleep next to him.

His body is warm and solid and he smells _so good _and this isn’t fair.

“Will you sleep with me?”

It’s not until Sebastian raises an eyebrow at him that he realizes he’s said that out loud and oops, his cheeks dot red and he blames the blush on the alcohol. He puts his hands on the other’s hips, squeezing, wanting to pull him between his legs but he doesn’t.

The other lets out a soft sigh, shaking his head as he plays with a curl near his ear. “Not tonight, B.”

He pouts a little but nods his head, “Lots of paperwork?” He sticks his tongue out because gross and a soft laugh leaves Sebastian’s lips.

“Yeah, that’s one reason.” His hand moves to cup Blaine’s cheek, running his thumb over his lower lip. “What’d you come in here for?”

Blaine brightens as he remembers, sitting a little further up and using his connection on Sebastian’s hips to ground himself. “Oh, caramel corn! Popcorn.”

There’s something that passes over Sebastian’s face and Blaine can instantly tell that it’s not good. The taller rubs the back of his shoulder and glances towards the cabinets, “Uh…I think I finished that a few days ago, sorry.”

He frowns, his face pinching suddenly because a wall of emotion slams onto his shoulders like a wave and oh my God, he’s not actually going to _cry_ over popcorn is he? He puts his hands over his face a moment and lets out a soft whining noise because,

“All I wanted was popcorn in bed, _Sebastian.” _

His roomie winces, touching the back of his neck in a soothing manner. “I know, sorry. Can I make you something else?”

Blaine huffs out a noise and stands up, too quickly, sways on his feet and luckily Sebastian’s there to even him out otherwise he’d be on the floor.

“No,” And he pokes at his chest as he enunciates every word, “And I don’t care if you eat all the caramel corn, just buy more you dick.”

Sebastian smirks and grabs his hand, squeezing him gently before motioning him towards the hallway. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Blaine huffs and leans into him heavily, letting him lead the way. “What about pizza? Or chicken tenders.”

“I’ll make you something, come on.”

He lets him take him into his bedroom, sitting heavily on the bed before pulling the covers back. “I’d also settle for a Caesar salad.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, helping Blaine undo his jeans and take them off. “You’ve got the weirdest cravings for a drunk guy, you know that? You’re like a four-month old pregnant woman.”

Blaine scrunches his nose but doesn’t dignify that with a reply; instead he takes his shirt off and somehow gets trapped until Sebastian works his arms through the appropriate holes. He sighs out lazily, rubbing a hand over his face before he reaches for the other’s shirt.

“It’s not too late.” He’s not sure what he’s talking about, the chicken tenders or the coming to bed part, but Sebastian just shakes his head and gently disentangles him from his shirt.

“You’re making it very hard for me to be a nice guy, Blaine Anderson. Get into bed.” He squeezes his hand again and tucks him in and as soon as his head hits the pillow, he falls asleep.

\--

Blaine wakes up late and completely misses his first period class, a monster headache brewing in the back of his skull. He’s not nauseas, so that’s a plus, but he thinks he might actually die when the sun hits his face from the living room curtains.

He makes it into the kitchen in one piece, groaning a little when he has to stop and lean against the counter, putting his head into his hands.

Okay, one step at a time—coffee, Advil, food, clothes, school. He can do this.

When he pulls his hands away from his face, his vision focuses on something in the center of the counter—a few bags of caramel popcorn, a glass of water, Advil and a note. God—he barely remembers half of what he said last night, but he _does _recall Sebastian getting him to bed and being…sweet. Like actually sweet.

He takes a look at the note,

_Caramel popcorn is restocked. Try asking me to sleep with you when you’re sober, killer ;)_

Oops.

Blaine sighs and grabs the bag of caramel corn, ripping it open to take a handful to pop into his mouth. It’s probably just better if he pretends last night never happened.

\--

**I don't care if you hate cilantro**

They rotate dinners for the most part unless they’re both too busy to really take the time to eat. Sometimes Sebastian eats at the law firm while he works on cases, other times Blaine meets his friends out so he’s not home, but usually they’re around on the nights that one of them cooks.

Tonight, however, Blaine’s on his own. Sebastian has been working late at the law firm and he’s just getting home from his shift at the bar around midnight (not drunk this time, thankfully) so anything he can quickly put together before he goes to bed is a plus.

He yawns as he wanders into the kitchen, rubbing a hand over his face before checking the fridge. There’s leftover ground turkey, cheddar cheese, tomatoes, fresh cilantro and salsa…the universe is definitely telling him he needs late night tacos.

Blaine gets out a skillet and starts gathering ingredients together, heating up the pan and dumping the ground turkey into it. While it starts cooking, he stands on his toes to look though the cabinet for taco shells, making a noise of triumph when he finds some tucked behind Sebastian’s coffee cup collection.

The tacos don’t take long to make, it’s mostly just heating up ingredients and assembling—he has to cut some of the cilantro and that’s the last thing he does when he hears the front door open and close.

He frowns a little and looks up as Sebastian passes the doorway to the kitchen and pauses, “Would it kill you to make something that _doesn’t _smell like that?”

His sense of smell is impressive, even though the cilantro is rather pungent. He dumps the cut-up pieces into the skillet and mixes it in with the ground up turkey, adding some other spices to highlight the meat. Blaine isn’t sure he’s supposed to dignify that with a response but he looks over his shoulder at him,

“It's my night to make dinner and you weren't supposed to be home. I can make whatever I want.”

Blaine turns to take a few taco shells out of the bag, fixing Sebastian with a look because what’s the big deal? Sebastian rarely eats this late anyways, he probably had something at the law firm before coming home and is it really necessary to question his dinner options?

Though, the more he looks at him, the more Sebastian’s expression speaks more than his words. Something’s wrong.

“Oh I know,” The taller all but snaps, referring to Blaine’s comment about ‘doing what he wants’, “that’s why I’m always tripping over your shoes at the front door, suffering through listening to RENT for the thirtieth time when you shower and the fact that you leave recyclables all up and down the kitchen counter before garbage day.”

Blaine blinks and turns off the stove behind him, leaning against the counter to address Sebastian without being distracted. Alright, so? He does a bunch of little shit that probably annoys him—newsflash? Sebastian isn’t exactly the prince of all roommates either. He has to put up with all of his idiosyncrasies that drive him crazy too.

His eyes trace over the other’s form—notes how tight his shoulders are, the way the muscles in his jaw are working, eyes drawn and tired, standing too straight like there’s a rod tied to his spine. He’s upset but Blaine’s not sure why.

“I always leave my shoes by the door, that’s not new, you _like_ RENT, our recycle bin isn't big enough and why are you trying to start a fight with me?”

Sebastian lets out a slow sigh and shakes his head, waving him off. He disappears down the hall and into his bedroom, most likely to change out of his work clothes. Blaine runs a hand through his curls, settling down at the counter to spoon taco meat into the shells, finishing them off with salsa, avocado, and cheese.

His roommate wanders back in a few minutes later, quiet, sitting down at the counter after getting himself a cup of coffee. Blaine eats his one taco in silence, wondering if he should move to the living room or something because Sebastian keeps looking over at his food like he’s eating something rotten.

But fuck him, this is the kitchen and he really doesn’t need to bring his bad mood all up in here where there are other rooms he could be in.

“What, no witty commentary for tonight?” Blaine asks and it’s too sassy for Sebastian’s attitude who finally just snaps at him by slamming his coffee cup down on the counter and yelling,

“How bout I fucking hate cilantro, that witty enough for you?”

His voice echoes in the kitchen a moment, the reverberation almost hurting his ears. Blaine looks away from him, picking at his taco a few moments because he’s an asshole and he has no idea why he decided to agitate him when he knew something was wrong. Sebastian takes a soft breath in through his nose, pinching the bridge as his thumbs rub at his temples.

“Sorry,” He says after a moment and Blaine shakes his head. “This case at my job is just…it’s digging under my skin. Long hours and not enough sleep and not enough people to run the amount of work we need.”

“No, that was my bad.” Blaine says softly, standing from his stool to make Sebastian a taco. “Even though I really don’t care if you hate cilantro.”

A soft smile tugs at the ends of Sebastian’s mouth as his hand falls from his face, Blaine sifting through the meat that’s leftover because the pieces of cilantro are at least big enough to avoid. He puts the cilantro-free meat into a taco shell and adds everything else on top before putting it on a plate in front of Sebastian.

The taller licks his lips, considering the taco in front of him. He’s probably not even hungry but Blaine can tell he appreciates the gesture. “It tastes like New York garbage that’s been sitting on the sidewalk for three days.”

He smirks and lets his hand fall to the back of his roomie’s neck, rubbing the taut muscle there for a few moments until Sebastian starts to relax underneath his administrations.

“Eat something, you’ll feel better.” Blaine pulls back and brings his last taco a little closer so he can sit near Sebastian, their legs leaning into one another as he sits back at the counter. “Also, cilantro still loves you even though you’re a hater.”

Sebastian throws a tomato at him.

\--

**I don't care about your coffee cup collection**

Blaine lets out a soft sigh and stands on his toes to look through the kitchen cabinet, trying to find a cereal bowl. It’s not often that he wants cereal for breakfast but he woke up with a hankering for honey nut cheerios and so that’s why he’s been looking through the cabinets for the past five minutes.

He keeps running into Sebastian’s endless selection of coffee mugs, which, they really should sift through because it’s getting ridiculous. Ever since he’s known him, he’s collected a wide variety of coffee mugs that have no particular rhyme or reason. Some of them are mismatched, shaped funny, shark mouths and giraffe handles, some with ridiculous sayings on them or distant locations (some he’s been to, some he’s never been to) and they all take up residence in their cabinets above the sink.

This isn’t even all of them, he’s pretty sure, there’s a box of Halloween and Christmas selections that they swap out for each holiday (and Blaine kinda likes those) but _this? _trying to sift through twenty different mugs when he just wants a stupid cereal bowl?

Annoying.

“What are you looking for?” Sebastian wanders into the kitchen and opens the fridge for the orange juice.

“A bowl.” He sighs and gives up, backing up from the cabinets. “We need to clean some of these coffee mugs out of there. I can’t find anything else.”

Sebastian scrunches his nose and pulls one to set on the counter, pouring juice into it. “Don’t blame my coffee mugs because you’re short, curls.”

“We have more mugs than any other set of dishes and it has nothing to do with my height.”

The taller takes a sip of juice and leans his side against the counter, unsure of what Blaine wants him to do about this. He shrugs his shoulder and Blaine rolls his eyes because of course, of course he doesn’t see this as a problem. He reaches past him and presses himself up, taking mugs out of the cabinets.

He can literally _feel _Sebastian’s eyes trail down his back, settle on his ass, appreciate the roll of his curves right in front of him but he’s too busy grabbing mugs to do anything about it.

“We can clean a bunch of these out, okay? You don’t need all these in the cabinet.”

“Hey, easy with those.” Sebastian puts a hand on his wrist, taking a few to set down on the counter. “You don’t see me going through your bowtie collection, and some of those _seriously _need to be thrown away.”

Blaine feels his cheeks kiss with blush and yeah, okay, a few bowties have been looking a little rough lately but some of those are from his grandfather and he’s not about to throw them out.

“You got most of these at gas stations.” He presses, looking over his shoulder at Sebastian who picks up a mug and taps the text printed on it as a response.

‘_I'm not arguing, I'm just explaining why I'm right_’ and Blaine rolls his eyes.

“I don’t care about your coffee cup collection.”

“Well that’s a damn shame because they care about you,” Sebastian smiles, licking his lips. “Especially with how your ass looks in those jeans this morning.”

“Shut up.” Blaine mumbles, his compliment making the back of his neck flush as he reaches for another mug.

“Careful, that’s a collectable.”

He raises an eyebrow at the overly simplified white mug that says ‘Not Today, Satan’ in red letters because _really? _And decides he’s going to eat cereal in it because he can’t find a bowl. He moves towards the cereal box he left on the counter and opens it up.

“Don’t do it.” Sebastian scrunches his nose, “Those are for coffee and tea only—”

And Blaine pours the cereal right in, sticking his fingers in the mug afterwards to eat a handful before he adds the milk.

Sebastian shakes his head and starts putting his mugs back into the cabinet. “I hope you got a lock on your bowtie collection.”

Blaine chuckles as he takes the cup full of cereal into the living room to eat and as he holds onto the handle, plopping onto the couch. As of right now, he’s determined to eat cereal or soup or whatever else he can out of Sebastian’s coffee cup collection.

\--

**(I’m sorry) I don’t care**

Blaine doesn’t really mind working at a seedy bar because for the most part it’s easy money. He likes mixing drinks, meeting new people and his co-workers are by far some of the best and funniest people he’s met while living in New York. Some nights, however, are harder than most and tonight’s a perfect example of that. They get crowded early and Blaine stays fifteen minutes after his shift ends to help the bartenders catch up on drinks—the extra tips are nice but he’s been there since eight, it’s now two AM, his body hurts and he has a test in the middle of the afternoon tomorrow that he has yet to study for.

He hopes Sebastian hasn’t been waiting on him too long, he’s supposed to pick him up because he lent his MetroCard to a friend and because of the in-between paychecks, he can’t pay for an Uber. He checks his phone and is glad to see zero messages and turns to grab his jacket out from underneath the bar.

“You headin’ out?” His fellow bartender, Ryan, asks as he pours vodka into a mixer.

“Yeah, finally,” He rubs the back of his neck. “When you off?”

“Just another fifteen,” He grins, “Not that hard to make it to. You gonna drink that?”

Blaine frowns as he looks down at the set of shots that are next to Ryan, brown liquid that he assumes is some sort of whiskey. Maybe bourbon? He pulls his coat on, fixing the collar.

“They’re from the guy down the bar.”

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head as he looks at Ryan. “This guy won’t take the hint. I’ve been telling him ‘no thanks’ all night.”

Ryan shrugs and takes one for himself, grinning before he downs the shot with ease. “He’s probably just drunk. Don’t worry, I won’t let this perfectly good alcohol go to waste.”

Blaine chuckles softly and makes sure he has his keys and wallet before making his way towards the exit of the bar, “That’s why you’re the best bartender we got, Ry.”

He texts Sebastian that he’s heading outside and then scrunches his nose because his hands are sticky from too much tequila and touching fruit from making people’s drinks. He uses his shoulder to push the bathroom door open, stopping at a sink to wash his hands.

He hears the door open and close and doesn’t think much of it until someone’s pressed up against him.

“It’s kinda rude to not accept drinks people buy for you.”

Blaine instantly squirms against the man’s touch, pushing himself off the sink and turning to see it’s the guy who kept buying him drinks his entire shift. He shakes his head, taking a step back,

“It’s rude not to take no for an answer.” He says, drying his hands on his shirt. Blaine eyes the door behind him; he’s in the way of him leaving. “Look, get an Uber, go home.”

He moves to sneak past him but this guy puts his body in his path, hands on him, squeezing too tight and knocking Blaine off balance. He hits the wall to his right, hard, and because this guy is taller than him it’s difficult to push him off again. He makes a loud groan and the thing is—Blaine’s boxed before; he knows how to throw a punch but sometimes he hates how hard it is to _remember _exactly what he needs to do. He’s frozen for a few moments, this guy’s weight pinning him into the wall.

“There’s no need to be rude, I’ll show you a good time—”

Blaine lifts his arm and throws a punch but it’s a little off, doesn’t land like he wants it to. “Get _off _of me!”

For a drunk guy he moves fast and he knows it’s going to happen before it does but his hand comes down on Blaine’s face, backhanding him, his ring cutting his lower lip. He’s dazed for a moment, the pain radiating throughout his cheek and up through his temple before he lifts his knee, hard, hoping for that connection—

And he does, knees him perfectly in the groin and this guy buckles onto the ground. Blaine doesn’t hesitate, he _runs _out of the bathroom and out of the bar, looking for Sebastian’s car.

He’s not there.

No, he…he has to be. He takes his phone out and hates that his hands are shaking as he checks his messages. Nothing. He tries to call him, once, twice, but nothing.

He’s not here. He’s not _here _to pick him up and—

Fuck.

“Blaine? You’re still here, huh.”

He turns too quickly, a little jumpy, and Ryan frowns as he sees the cut on his lip. “Hey, what happened?” His voice is gentle, his hand coming down onto his arm.

Blaine shakes his head, turning his shoulder so that Ryan isn’t touching him anymore. “Nothing.” He swallows, “Can I…”

“Yeah of course,” Ryan says, Blaine not even having to finish his sentence. “My car’s over there.”

The drive back to his apartment is quiet, which Blaine appreciates, he really doesn’t want to talk about what happened and Ryan doesn’t try to pry. He does, however, tell him to put ice on his face when he drops him off at his place.

Blaine nods and waves as he drives off, sighing as he makes his way into his apartment complex. He doesn’t understand why Sebastian never came to get him. Did something happen? Did he get stuck at the law firm or maybe he fell asleep and never heard his phone? The elevator takes him up and he winces as he turns down the hall, his face stinging, a hot shower and an ice pack definitely in his future.

He unlocks the door, toeing off his shoes by the front and takes his jacket off. He really hopes they put Advil on the grocery list because his head is pounding something furious. Blaine makes his way down the hall, pausing because…

He hears Sebastian in his bedroom.

He hears him in his bedroom with someone else.

Blaine feels white-hot anger course through his sternum and seep into his bloodstream because it’s one thing if Sebastian didn’t pick him up because something came up—it’s another to _forget about him _because of a fuck buddy. He doesn’t even hesitate to open the door with a loud bang,

Sebastian turning mid-action on top of someone else, _swearing _because, “What the fuck Blaine?”

“Thanks for picking me up, asshole.” He snaps out and wishes his voice sounded stronger than it does. It’s cracked in a bunch of places, strained, _hurt _in a way he doesn’t want to admit he feels.

He slams the door closed and walks briskly down the hall to his own bedroom, slipping inside with a soft noise of built up emotion ricocheting in his chest. His hands are shaking as he takes off his shirt, trying to undress himself and just get into bed because tonight has been a fucking nightmare and he just wants it to be over.

Sebastian at least has the decency to not finish up whoever he’s doing before he walks down the hall and knocks on his door. “Blaine! Hey, B, open up.”

Blaine ignores him, slipping on a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt, wincing as he glances at himself in the mirror. There’s a bruise forming on his jawline and the cut in his lower lip looks angry. God, he forgot the ice.

He’s certainly not leaving his room to get it now.

“Come on Blaine, this whole pouting routine is hot don’t get me wrong, but it’s a little ridiculous even for you. Yeah, I forgot to pick you up, my bad. You clearly made it home okay.”

It takes everything in him not to throw something at his bedroom door but he’s not about to break anything just to make a point. Instead he pulls the covers back on his bed and turns his nightstand lamp on, running a hand through his curls.

“I’m sorry, alright, is that what you want to hear?” Sebastian says a few minutes after, his voice a little pinched because he’s getting annoyed that he’s being ignored.

“I don’t care.” He chokes out, unwanted tears gathering in his eyes. The adrenaline starts to crash around him, heavy as weights on his shoulders, the shaking getting a little worse as he sniffles.

Blaine crawls into bed, pulling the sheets up over his shoulder as he lies on the one side, facing the door. He should have known better to lock it because after a few moments of silence, Sebastian opens it.

He’s dressed just in boxer briefs as he comes into view and Blaine wants so terribly to turn away from him but he doesn’t have enough energy to do so. The taller pauses, jaw working as his eyes fall onto Blaine’s face, tracing the forming bruise and cut. He stands there for a few moments before he closes the space.

“What happened?”

“Just leave me alone.” Blaine whispers, sniffling softly. “Please.”

Sebastian swallows and turns on his heel out of his bedroom and just when he thinks he’s gone back to his own room; he comes back with a bag of frozen peas in a tea towel. He looks up at him as Sebastian sits near his hips on his bed.

“Here,” He says gently, “Keep this on your face.”

Blaine isn’t strong enough to deny the frozen peas and he’s not strong enough to push him away, even when his fingers start working their way through his curls. He finds himself closing his eyes, leaning ever so gently into the touch as he holds the peas to his face. It feels nice and hopefully the swelling won’t be ridiculous when he wakes up in the morning.

Sebastian stays there, fingers rubbing along his scalp, pausing every so often to massage the muscle at the back of his neck.

“You going to tell me what happened?”

Blaine shakes his head because no, he wasn’t there, so he doesn’t get to know. The taller sighs softly but nods, like he understands the silent conversation Blaine’s having with him and continues to work his fingers through his hair.

It’s quiet for a few minutes and Blaine struggles with the fact that this isn’t Sebastian’s fault. Yeah, he forgot about picking him up but he’s not to blame for what happened to him in the bathroom. It’s just…for once? He was upset and _wanted _Sebastian to be there, to feel comforted by his presence, to come home together to their apartment and get himself cleaned up and maybe watch a movie together to get his mind off it.

He’s disappointed because his own feelings keep getting in the way.

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian says again, really means it this time, his voice heavy and almost intimate.

Blaine licks his lips and he nods, not able to say anything but he reaches for the hand in his hair and holds it with his own.

Sebastian doesn’t go back to his own bed that night, instead, when Blaine wakes up in the middle of the night to move into a different position he’s there—pressed securely against his own body. He pulls the peas off his face, no longer cold to the touch and tucks himself against Sebastian’s chest, arm snaking around his middle.

The taller squeezes him and because he thinks he’s asleep, he presses a soft kiss to Blaine’s forehead.

\--

**\+ I care about your stupid coffee collection (and about you) **

Blaine doesn’t sleep as long as he would have liked but his jawline is throbbing and the sun is starting to seep through his curtains anyways. He moves a little, Sebastian letting a long sigh out his nose as he twists in his sleep, gathering the covers up. A soft smile tugs the ends of Blaine’s mouth as he crawls out of bed, heading to the kitchen to make French toast. The least he can do is start this day off better than how last night ended and he puts a pot of coffee on after he grabs another bag of frozen peas from the freezer. He closes his eyes a moment as he presses it to his jaw, the action soothing and calming to his irritated and sore skin.

He fishes out some Advil and takes it with a swig of juice before getting a pan out and the ingredients to make the batter for breakfast. It doesn’t take him very long, the coffee pot beeping signaling that the brewing is done and when he reaches for a few mugs he pauses…

Looking over Sebastian’s collection. He smiles at a few ridiculous mugs, taking one out that has a dinosaur handle and another that says ‘Welcome to Pennsylvania’ with a bunch of landmarks around the rim. He shakes his head and sets them on the counter before glancing at the shelves in the cabinets.

He begins moving some things around. If he takes a few pots and consolidates another cabinet, moves the bowls to another shelf in a different part of the kitchen and cleans out some wine glasses—

“What are you doing?”

Blaine turns to look at Sebastian wandering into the kitchen, voice still thick with sleep. He’s got bed hair and his skin looks kissed warm from being in sheets a few minutes before. “Reorganizing a few shelves. Now this whole cabinet can be…for your mugs.”

Sebastian glances at the shelves over Blaine’s shoulder and his eyebrows draw together just a little. “For my mugs.” He repeats, like it’s some sort of trap.

He nods and fills up the two mugs he got down with coffee and pushes the Pennsylvania one closer as Blaine adds sugar to his own. “I’m…I’m sorry about last night, I—”

The taller holds up his hand, stopping him mid-sentence, “No don’t.” He gets the milk out of the fridge, “I wasn’t there when you needed me. You don’t need to apologize.” He licks his lips and takes out spoons, handing Blaine one before using his to point at the cabinet, “You _do, _however, have to explain that.”

“What I can’t do something nice?”

Sebastian grins, pillowing his chin on the palm of his hand as he leans his elbow onto the counter. “Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know what.” And he waits.

Blaine chews on his lower lip, rolling his eyes because he should have known he was going to regret this, “I…I care about your…stupid coffee collection, okay?”

“Oh you do, do you?”

He clicks his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “Well you have them organized by color, for the most part, and they’re _almost _nice to display in a…quirky gas station kinda way.”

Sebastian hums, “You mean compared to my dildo collection?”

Blaine ignores him, adding sugar to his coffee, “They’re useful too because ironically we’re almost always out of coffee cups because you leave them littered about in your bedroom.”

“Those dildos are ordered by color too, you know…ribs, shape, size, that kinda thing.” He rounds the corner as Blaine continues to talk, closing the cabinet door with careful fingers before adding milk to his mug.

“I actually prefer the one that says ‘shuh da fuh cup’, which is absolutely ridiculous.”

“I got that in Rhode Island. And we can always try them out if you want.” Blaine blinks. “The dildos, obviously.”

Blaine scrunches his nose. “Stop with the dildos, also that’s gross.”

“Like you don’t have one.”

“I certainly don’t have a collection.”

Sebastian smirks, “But you care about…the coffee cups.” He sounds unconvinced and Blaine tries to swallow down a fluttering in his stomach that is most definitely going to encourage blush to heat up the back of his neck.

He sighs as the taller moves to press into his space, backing him up against the kitchen counter. Blaine tips his chin up to look at him, “You going to make me say it?”

He shrugs, eyes glittering with amusement, “We could talk about the dildos again.”

“I _care _about you, okay?”

Sebastian cups his cheek, his fingers curling around the back of his ear. “I care about you too, curls.”

Blaine smiles as he leans down to kiss him and unfortunately it only lasts for a few moments before he has to pull back, the cut on his lower lip a little too sensitive for the contact. Sebastian winces out of sympathy before grabbing the frozen peas so Blaine can put them back on his mouth.

“I’m just saying, if you’re willing to create space and organization for my coffee cup collection…my dildo collection could use the help too.”

Sebastian moves too fast out of his way before he can smack him and Blaine lets out a soft laugh, “If you care about eating French toast this morning, you’ll stop mentioning dildos.”

The taller pretends to zip his mouth closed, giving him a wink as Blaine heats up the pan and begins dipping pieces of bread into the batter.

He’s not sure if starting something with Sebastian is a good idea…or if it’ll even end well, but regardless of all that? he doesn’t care.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! I'm at blainesebastian on tumblr :3


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